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THE LOST LOG CABIN 






The 

LOST LOG CABIN 



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COPYRIGHT, 1933 

BY 

ALBERT WHITMAN & CO. 


Printed in United States 
of America 


NOV 15 1933 


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THE LOST LOG CABIN 


Jack threw down his airplane with a sigh. 
Sharply it crashed to the floor and snapped the 
silk in one frail wing. It had flown through the 
air like a bird, and now after just one day, it 
was broken. 

“I don’t care,” thought Jack. “It had no 
business to be so thin. It isn’t my fault.” 

The door opened and Marie, his nurse, looked 
in. 

“Why, Master Jack, see what has hap- 








pened,” she said. “Your beautiful toy is broken. 
How did it happen?” 

“What does it matter?” said Jack crossly. 
“Go out and buy me a new one.” 

Jack had a very rich father and mother who 
gave him everything in the world he could wish 
for. He lived in a beautiful home that was 
known for many miles around as the Big House. 
He had many toys to play with, yet he was very 
cross and unhappy. 

Now, although Jack had everything to make 
him happy, that was the very reason he was 
unhappy. He could not think of one thing in all 
the world that he wanted and did not have. 

“Go away, Rags, don’t jump on me,” Jack 
said, as his half-grown Airedale puppy danced 
around him. He gave Rags a quick kick that 
surprised the little dog more than it hurt him, 
and he ran behind a chair where he could watch 
his little master. 

Jack slipped into the kitchen and poured 
water into the dish where cook was mixing a 
cake. 



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“You bad little boy,” Bridget 
scolded. “Go away.” 

Jack was cross to his mother 
and father, his nurse and his play- 


mates. He broke his toys and tore his clothes. 
He overturned nurse’s mending basket. He and 
Rags chased Ruffles, the Angora cat, and made 
her spit at them in a temper. 

“R-r-r-r-r-r,” she growled. 

In fact, Jack did everything naughty he 
could think of. 

One beautiful summer day he thought he 
would leave the Big House and garden and go 
out into the world. 















Now, Jack had never gone outside the high 
iron gates alone. He had always walked with 
his nurse or ridden in one of his father’s cars, 
so when he stood in the open road, he was a 
little scared, but something called him on. He 
did not notice that Rags, his dog, had followed 
him at a distance. 

As Jack walked along the road he saw 
strange sights he had never noticed before. A 
huge mound at one side of the road attracted his 
attention, and he gave it a kick with his foot 
and knocked off a chunk of earth. Hundreds of 
great black ants poured forth and they were 
very angry. 

“How dare you break into our storehouse?” 
they cried. “We need this food for our family. 
Go away, you bad boy,” and Jack ran on as fast 
as he could. 

Presently Jack turned off the highway into 
a narrow path through the woods, that he had 
never seen before. It was very quiet and dark 
in the woods, and at first Jack thought that he 
was the only thing alive there. 



A furry little animal, smaller than a kitten, 
peeped at Jack from a hole in the ground. This 
was Streak, the Gopher. 

Jack looked behind him and saw Bushy Tail, 
the Squirrel, who was one of Streak’s cousins. 
Rags had stayed far to the rear until now. When 
he saw Bushy Tail, he rushed up and started to 
bark: 

“Bow-wow, don’t you touch my master.” 

Quicker than a flash, Bushy Tail was up 
in the top of a tall tree. Looking down, he 
screamed: 

“Bad boy and dog, go away.” 

This Jack and Rags were glad to do, and 


with his dog close beside him, Jack went deeper 
and deeper into the woods. 

“Caw, caw, who comes here?”, scolded Blacky 
Crow from the top of an old dead tree. Jack 
threw a stone at the bird, which made him flap 
his wings crossly and fly away. 

“Don’t step on me!” cried Chirpy, the Crick¬ 
et, as he ran across the path trying to get away 
from Jack’s foot. 

All the animals and birds said “Go away” 
to Jack, because he did not love them and only 
wanted to hurt them. 

Soon the little boy and dog began to feel 
hungry, so they thought of going home. They 
turned around, but Jack had lost the path that 
led out of the woods. They ran up hill and down, 
but always seemed to be getting farther and 
farther away from home. 

Jack was frightened and he wished that he 
had stayed at home where he was taken care 
of by his father and mother. He was finally so 
tired that he sank down on a mossy bank, and 
Rags crawled up close in his arms. 


Then Jack thought of all the naughty things 
he had done that morning, and for the first 
time he was sorry. 

“Rags, when we get home, we’ll be good, 
won’t we?” whispered Jack, and Rags gave him 
a tiny dab with his tongue that meant “Yes.” 

Suddenly Jack heard a noise in the bushes. 
He and Rags sat up and listened. 

All was quiet. Then, it came again. Jack 
looked and saw that it was Brother Bear, who 
lives in the woods. 

“What do you want?” said Jack in a small 
voice. He had never seen a bear so close before, 
and he was a little frightened. 

“Who stole my blackberries down in the 
swamp?” said Brother Bear in his deep voice. 

“I didn’t, please don’t blame me,” Jack 
whimpered. 

“It is well for you that you didn’t,” said 
Brother Bear. Off he crashed through the 
bushes. 

“Who-o-o-o,” said a voice behind Jack. 

“Who-o-o-o,” it came again from overhead. 


“Who are you?” asked Jack. “I cannot see 
you anywhere.” 

“Ha, ha, of course not. I am West Wind, and 
nobody has ever seen me,” he laughed. 

“Who-o-o-o-,” sang West Wind as he rushed 
through the tree tops, and away. 

Then, Blacky Crow, whom Jack had fright¬ 
ened, came flying near, and seeing the little 
boy and dog were lost, he was sorry for them. 
He brought sprays of wild berries in his bill 
and laid them in Jack’s hand. 

“You dear little bird, thank you. I am sorry 
I threw a stone at you,” said Jack, and he and 
Rags ate the berries as fast as they could, be¬ 
cause they were very hungry. 

Bushy Tail, the squirrel, brought nuts that 
tasted wonderfully good, and Brownie Thrush, 
one of the shyest birds, brought water in the 
cup of a flower, which he carried in his beak. 

Soon the little boy and dog were fed and 
rested and feeling much better. Jack said, 

“Thank you, dear friends, and please forgive 
me for trying to hurt you.” 



THE BLACK CROW BROUGHT SPRAYS OF WILD BERRIES 


—— 



















Streak, the Gopher, peeped out through the 
leaves and said, 

“Follow me and I will take you to the Log 
Cabin of the Woods for the night,” for it was 
getting darker among the 
trees. Jack and Rags fol¬ 
lowed Streak, and Rags 
never thought of chasing 
him or hurting him in any 
way. 

On and on went the 
strange procession. Jack 
became very tired and want¬ 
ed to stop and rest many 
times. At last it was getting 
lighter and Jack saw a 
puff of smoke through the 
branches, which showed 
that there was a fire near. 

“I cannot go any far¬ 
ther,” said Streak. “Go to 
the Log Cabin of the Woods 
and ask for shelter for the 





night,” for a small cabin was now to be seen. 

“Thank you, dear friend,” said Jack, but 
Streak was gone. 

Going up a rocky path, Jack came to the 
Cabin and knocked at the huge rough door. 
Soon a tall man opened the door and Jack said, 

“Please may we come in and sleep here to¬ 
night, we are so tired? Streak, the Gopher, 
back in the forest, told us to ask you.” 

The tall man answered without taking his 
pipe from his mouth: 

“Can we take in a little boy for the night?” 
he called to someone. 

“My dog must come with me,” said Jack 
quickly. 

“Yes,” said a kind voice. “Come in, little 
boy, and bring your dog also.” 

Jack and his dog went into the Log Cabin 
and there stood a tall woman, stirring a pot of 
soup on the stove. She was not pretty like 
Jack’s mother, yet she had such a kind face 
and pleasant voice that Jack liked her at once. 
She came quickly to his side and putting her 



arms around the little boy, 
said: 

“Tell me where you came 
from.” 

“I ran away from home,” 
said Jack and bowed his 
head. 

“What is your name? 
Who is your father, and 
where do you live?” asked 
the big man. 

“My name is Jack and 
my father is Mr. Marchand. 
We live in the Big House 
on Sunset Road,” answered 
Jack. 

“Well, well, little boy, 
you are a long way from 
home,” said the big man. 

“Come, have a good 
dinner, Jack,” said the 
kind woman, and she 
placed a dish of steaming 









hot soup on the table. 

Jack ate hungrily and 
so did Rags, and when they 
had finished they were very 
sleepy. 

Outside, the birds had 
long ago gone to their 
homes in the trees, and all 
the little animals and insects 
that walk or crawl by day 
were safely tucked away 
for the night. 

The kind woman made a 
snug little bed for Jack on 
the floor, and he and Rags 
were soon asleep. 

Early the next morning 
the big man waked Jack, 
and after a warm breakfast 
they started out to find 
Jack’s father and mother, 
but not before Jack had 
thanked the kind woman 















for her care. Jack was learning that the least he 
could do to repay people for their kindness, was 
to thank them. 

Hour after hour they walked, and when Jack 
wUs tired the big man carried him in his arms. 
They finally came to the great highway known 
as Sunset Road, where Jack’s home stood. 

A large motor car full of men came up be¬ 
hind them and stopped. In it was Jack’s father. 
He and other men had been searching all night 
for Jack. 

“Father, I am so glad to see you,” Jack 
sobbed and cried all at once, for he had never 
been so glad to see anybody in all his life, as 
when his father took him in his strong arms. 

All talked at once, but finally the big man 
told the story of how Jack and Rags had come 
to the Log Cabin of the Woods and asked for 
shelter. Jack’s father invited the big man to 
get into the car and to ride to Jack’s home. He 
did not want to do this, but Mr. Marchand in¬ 
sisted. 

“Where is my mother?” asked Jack. As 


they turned in at the high iron gates, Jack saw 
her running towards him with outstretched 
arms. 

Soon the story was retold. Jack explained 
how the birds and animals had been kind to him 
and Rags, and how Streak, the Gopher, had led 
them to the Log Cabin of the Woods, where the 
big man and his kind wife lived. 

Jack’s mother and father thanked the big 
man many, many times, and when he left, 
Jack’s father offered him a reward for his 
kindness, but the big man said, 

“No, thank you, sir. I earn my living by 
chopping wood, and I do not need your money.” 

“Let us take you home in our car, at least,” 
said Mr. Marchand, but again the big man 
refused. 

It seemed a year ago that Jack had been so 
unhappy, yet it had only been one day. All 
looked so beautiful to him in his father’s house. 
He remembered how rough and plain was the 
Log Cabin of the Woods. 

“Mother, I want to give some of my pretty 


things to the kind woman,” Jack whispered. 

“Yes, Jack,” said his mother. “I would be 
very glad to do that, and you may go, too, and 
help us find her.” 

So they piled the car full of rugs, pictures, 
curtains, books, flowers, food, and many other 
pretty and useful things, and started out. 

Long they searched for the Log Cabin of the 
Woods, but they could not find the big man and 
his kind wife. Jack was very sorry for this. 

“Never mind, Jack. We will find someone 
else to give our presents to,” said Jack’s mother. 

Not far from Jack’s home was a small cot¬ 
tage where a poor widow lived with her five 
small children. She had no money and she had 
to work very hard to take care of her family. 

So Jack and his mother gave the poor widow 
all the rugs and nice things they had meant to 
give to the kind woman in the Log Cabin of the 
Woods. Jack gave the children many of his toys, 
and after that day, often came to play with his 
little neighbors. 

Jack’s mother gave the poor widow a place 


to work in the Big House and was very kind to 
her, so that she and her five children were very 
happy. 

Every day was a happy one for Jack and he 
soon forgot that he had ever been cross and had 
broken his toys. He often did errands for 
Bridget, the cook, and liked to watch her as she 
made cookies, and to have her tell him stories. 

Jack always remembered to be kind to ani¬ 
mals because they had brought him food, and 
led him to the Log Cabin of the Woods when 
he had been lost. 

Rags was a better dog, too, and did not tease 
Fluffy, the long haired cat, any more. In fact, 
he learned to like her very much and often 
shared his dinner with her. 







































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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